Pathfinder
by Insanity-Red
Summary: TFP. Staying neutral in an ages-long, planet-encompassing war is difficult, to say the least. One has managed it though - but perhaps not for long. Her quarry has led her right into the final, game-changing days of the conflict between the major players of both factions. And it's all happening on a small planet called Earth, which has a frustratingly mysterious link to Cybertron.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: So, yeah. New story. I've always loved Transformers Prime, and this one has been percolating in my head for quite some time. Enjoy!

* * *

Pathfinder - Chapter 1

* * *

"It seems the spider survived her fall."

The smugly amused sentence fractured the steady silence of the starship's cockpit, easily overlaying the gentle background hum of the engine and electronics. Its owner leaned forward in the captain's chair, reaching a servo toward the navigation system. A command was input, and a three-dimensional hologram appeared, displaying the largely blue and green planet that was slowly revolving below the ship.

A sickly, blackish-purple light shone from one of the large landmasses. One spindly claw reached out to tap it, and a shockwave rippled outward, more lights appeared in its wake as it encompassed the planet. There were a lot more than she was expecting. Especially since she was sure that for every light, there were sure to be even more energy signatures that were shielded.

"My, this planet is quite the hotspot." She frowned to herself, somewhat surprised by the high concentration of a Cybertronian signals on the previously insignificant-seeming planet.

She knew that her species had previously had contact with the planet, and that was one of the reasons that she had decided to follow Airachnid to it after disabling her ship. But she also knew that there should only be energon deposits, maybe a few relics she was interested in examining – any sort of active Cybertronian presence should be a thing of the distant past! Perhaps it would have meshed with her knowledge had there only been a couple signals, indicative of warriors left behind in stasis. But the number she was seeing now…

She vented lightly. "I spend eons successfully avoiding the war, and after the Great Exodus, when it seems like things are finally dying down (or at least spreading out) I just _happen_ to stumble across one of the biggest populations of Cybertronians I've seen since? Primus works in mysterious ways."

She pondered for a moment, wondering if her current goal was worth the risk of getting caught up in the situation on the planet below. It was highly likely that the large number of her species on the planet below indicated front line fighting. Knowing her luck, it could even be the leaders and their officers themselves.

Her visor dimmed as the optics beneath shuttered in contemplation. On one servo, her current goal was simply an attempt to satisfy some of her curiosity – and her curiosity had always been on the "dead cybercat" side of the danger scale. On the other, she did have a sense of self-preservation, and it _would_ be a shame to mar her successful record of avoiding the age long Autobot/Decepticon conflict.

She rose from her seat and stepped away from the hologram, moving toward a window that gave a clear view of the actual planet. She folded her arms as she gazed outward, one of her claws sneaking upward to tap contemplatively at the diamond-shaped crest on her forehelm.

"What do you think, Blindside?" she asked, seemingly to thin air. "Worth the risk?"

"Boss, when have you ever been satisfied after denying your curiosity?" A higher pitched, but undeniably male voice asked from behind her. "I don't care much about either side of this war, but if we leave now you'll be grumbling about it for vorns. Besides, the longer you wait, the more time she'll have to slip away."

She didn't turn to see the speaker. Her gaze remained fixed on the planet where her quarry had landed, but then a reflection in the window caught her optic. A small blue light appeared near the purple light on the globe, steadily moving closer to it. Eyeing the new appearance with a steadily growing curiosity, a smirk appeared on her face.

"Well when you put it like that… all right."

* * *

On the planet Earth, a two-man team (though one was a teenager, and the other was a giant female alien robot, so technically neither were men) reunited in sheer relief after a mission gone wrong – it had turned out more like a horror flick after the introduction of Airachnid.

Arcee panted for a short moment, gazing at the downed form of perhaps her worst enemy – or at least, her most personal one. She soon abandoned the moment, however satisfying, in favor of checking on her smaller, more fragile human partner.

"Jack! Are you okay?" she asked, stepping quickly toward him and kneeling to rip away the webbing that had him glued to a tree.

"Yeah, of course," he replied unsteadily. He gave her a tired grin and pulled his magnesium fire starter from his pocket. "Survival kit."

She began to smile back, glad that he hadn't lost his good humor, but their reunion was interrupted by the ominous sound of machinery whirring. It sounded like drilling. Arcee whipped around, blasters out, only to spot Airachnid with her spindly extra legs posed and spinning, gouging a tunnel into the earth below her for a quick getaway.

Before Arcee could do anything more than halfway form a snarl, however, a long, sinuous black cable snaked toward the escaping femme, and the claw on the end latched harshly onto her helm. The grip must have been strong, because Airachnid's high-speed spin was stopped dead in its tracks, and she was plucked from her half-formed ditch and suspended in midair. Her long spider legs flailed violently for a moment, but even their reach was too short for her to grasp or hit anything.

"You should have tried leaving a bit earlier than that, prey, if you wished to avoid me," a low, but feminine voice called out from the darkness between the pines.

"You!" Airachnid snarled, instantly recognizing the speaker. "I'll rip out your spark and feed it to you!"

Arcee nearly couldn't believe her optics – Airachnid, captured. And while the spider-like bot seemed enraged, beneath that she also almost looked… anxious.

"You say that, but you aren't exactly in a position to fulfill your threat, are you?" The cable deliberately wobbled a bit, playfully jostling its captured prey. Its owner stepped into the light cast by the distant fire of Airachnid's destroyed ship.

Arcee huddled Jack behind her protectively, and carefully kept her blasters at the ready as she examined the newcomer. It was a femme, though of a different build than Arcee, or even Airachnid. She was taller, with heavier armor. The cable currently detaining the spider emerged from between her chest plate and her shoulder plate. A visor covered the upper half of her face – but what could be seen of her expression was a small smile. It wasn't even an energon-thirsty smile that was often seen on Decepticon faceplates, but something about her still disturbed Arcee.

"Besides, talk like that is why I've come for you in the first place," the stranger said amiably. "You're a very intriguing specimen really, but I never would have decided to capture you if anyone would have missed you. I really must thank you for not making any friends."

Airachnid's face twisted with rage and the strange femme's smiled only widened. Without further ado, the cable lit up with crackling electricity. Her captive gave a short shriek, accompanied by a brief whine of scraping metal as she jolted, before slumping offline. The cable released its grip on her head in favor of winding around her form like a constrictor snake.

The stranger then turned her helm toward Arcee, who stiffened slightly, and shuffled to block Jack from sight a little more. She suddenly realized what had unnerved her (besides the fact that she had so easily stopped Airachnid – one of the most slippery bots she knew).

She had no faction insignia.

"Thanks for the assist. You saved me a bit of trouble."

Before Arcee could respond to the strangely jovial address, the other femme transformed into her vehicle mode – a slick, alien-looking jet of some sort – and flew off at high speeds, Airachnid dangling limply below in her grip.

"Who was that?" Jack asked, still coming down from his adrenaline rush, and confused by the entire encounter.

"I don't know," Arcee replied with a slight frown. "And that's what worries me."

She placed a hand on her com. "Ratchet, requesting a ground-bridge." She glanced down at Jack with a smile. "My _partner_ and I saw something that we should discuss. I'll report once we get back to base."

"Partner, huh?" Jack smirked playfully up at her.

" _Junior_ partner," she shot back as the ground-bridge appeared. "I can still pull rank."

They stepped through the ground-bridge and found the rest of the team waiting for them on the other side. Apparently, Ratchet had told them of Arcee's incoming report.

"Well? What was it that you two have discovered on a _routine recon_?" Ratchet asked gruffly. "I presume it was something more than the subterranean energon deposits you were sent to look out for."

"Yeah, it turned out not so routine after all," Jack grimaced.

"My scanner picked up a crash landing," Arcee began. "It belonged to a 'Con by the name of Airachnid. She worked as an interrogator back on Cybertron – I have a something of a history with her. Let's just say she's down there with the worst of them."

Arcee crossed her arms and continued. "I tried to call for a ground-bridge back, but the com link was dead; at any rate, Airachnid had already disembarked, so I decided to go after her before she could do any damage," she directed a sincere, but slightly strained smile at her newly-declared partner "Eventually, Jack and I managed to disable both her and her ship."

Arcee paused to gather her thoughts and grimaced slightly, "Airachnid probably would have escaped when I went to check on Jack – she's slippery like that – but before she could tunnel away, someone else got her."

"What, did a new 'Bot show up to match the new 'Con?" Bulkhead asked, somewhat hopeful for reinforcements.

But Arcee was already shaking her head. "You might think that, but no," she turned toward their leader, who had remained silent as he listened. "Optimus, she didn't have a faction insignia."

There was silence for a moment, but Miko broke it before it could stretch too long.

"What does that mean?" she piped up, "I mean, not _every_ Cybertronian has one – do they?"

"Unfortunately, our war spread to encompass most of our planet's inhabitants," Optimus replied gravely, "While some attempted to remain neutral, they were often caught in the crossfire, or deliberately hunted down by Decepticon forces. After it became common knowledge how neutrals fared, the vast majority of them chose a side."

"So someone without a symbol is really rare, right?" Raf asked curiously. "Why would they come here though, if they didn't want to pick sides – couldn't they tell that you guys are here?"

Arcee frowned. "When she spoke, it sounded like she came here by tracking Airachnid – and Airachnid definitely recognized her."

Bumblebee buzzed quizzically for a moment.

Arcee shook her head. "She didn't sound like she was hunting a bounty, though I'm sure Airachnid has one."

"Didn't she call Airachnid an 'intriguing specimen' or something?" Jack reminded his partner. "She sounded more like a mad scientist of some sort than a bounty hunter."

There were various reactions to that statement.

Ratchet frowned in contemplation, "Describe her to us. Given that she is a neutral and a femme – and perhaps a scientist – this 'stranger' is already part of a very small group. Perhaps we may be able to identify her with further description."

"She was about as tall as you Ratchet, maybe a little taller. Slim, with medium-coverage armor all done up in dark grey, teal and black– it didn't have a shine to it at all, so she might lean toward stealth; I didn't detect her at all until she got the drop on Airachnid, and from what I could tell, neither did her prey. She had a visor covering half her face so I couldn't see her optic color, and a helm crest shaped like two diamonds stacked on top of each other," Arcee's optics flickered toward Ratchet for a moment. "Now that I think of it, her armor… Her armor was all rounded edges. She also had antennae on either side of her crest, looked retractable."

Jack noticed the emphasis she had put on the last two list items. "What do those mean about her?"

"It means that she might be older. Maybe a lot older. Curved armor and antennae like that are considered old-fashioned," Arcee informed him, deliberately not looking over toward Ratchet again.

Miko didn't notice (or didn't care for) her attempt at tact. "What, like old doc bot?" she asked incredulously, "The way you described her sounded pretty cool, but now she's _retro_ - _granny_?"

"Old?!" Ratchet spluttered.

Bumblebee whirred anxiously, hands held up in a calming manner. Ratchet harrumphed at him, but subsided into grumbling as Arcee hastily continued her description.

"From what I could tell, her vehicle mode was some sort of Cybertronian jet – but it was probably modified, because it didn't look like any of the usual models I've seen. Probably the most unique thing about her was the way she captured Airachnid in the first place, though. She used a data relay cable," she paused. "Looked a lot like Soundwave's."

"So what is she, a scientist or a spook?" Bulkhead asked with a slight frown.

"She could be either, or both," Ratchet stated. "However, regardless of her occupation, I am sure that I do not know her. Too many of her features are distinctly uncommon, enough that she would stand out in my memory banks if she were there."

"Hmm," Optimus rumbled in a contemplative hum. "While this is indeed a mystery, perhaps our efforts would be better focused on more readily solved problems. With our lack of knowledge about this unaffiliated Cybertronian, it is difficult to determine whether she would be a potential benefit or detriment. Additionally, it may be that her only goal in coming to this planet was to capture Airachnid, and upon completing it, she has already left for other stars."

He shook his head.

"I do not believe it prudent to worry about her as of now. While we shall remain vigilant as always, there is little point in focusing on this particular issue without knowing more."

Arcee nearly said something, not quite liking the general feeling of unfinished business, but restrained herself to merely wishing fervently that whatever the mystery-bot had in store for Airachnid would be painful.

* * *

Meanwhile, the 'mystery-bot' cheerfully dumped her newest acquisition into one of the stasis pods in the back of her ship, which was currently high in the orbit of the blue and green planet below.

"It's always pleasant to achieve maximum results with minimal effort," she hummed to herself, placing a servo on her chin as she looked Airachnid over with avid interest.

"Uhuh. Right. _Why_ did you want this particular one, boss?" Blindside spoke up, deadpan and slightly dubious. "She seems like a real piece of work from what we saw in her ship."

"Precisely. Quintesson work, to be exact," she replied with relish. "Presumably you remember the Insecticons?"

"Yeah. Not the nicest bunch."

"Well, where do you think the Decepticons scientists got the idea, nay, the blueprints for them?"

"Her, I'm guessing."

"Precisely," her smile widened a stream of readings scrolled across the inside of her visor. "Examples of the Quintessons' techno-organic experimentation are difficult to come across in the first place, given how stridently most of my race attempted to erase any evidence of their influence. I've never really had the opportunity to study one before, so catching sight of Airachnid back on Jheriz was particularly serendipitous. She's not only the progenitor of an entire race in the Insecticons, but her _sterling_ personality means that she also has extremely low chances of inspiring an attempt at vengeance against me for taking her."

"And you do like to look ahead, _Farsight_ ," he spoke her name with a strange mix of teasing familiarity and disuse – he usually only referred to her as 'boss.' "So this one's basically a perfect target for you, then."

"Precisely."

In the dim lighting of the back half of her ship, Farsight's reflection in the stasis pod before her – blithe smile and all – looked almost menacing.

"We'll learn so much together."


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Like I said, this one's been on my mind for a bit, so the first few updates should come out pretty fast. Also, if anyone was wondering, I imagine Farsight's voice to be something like Lauren Bacall's. Blindside's is kinda Ian Bohen. Additionally, her alt form looks something like an Ori Fighter from Stargate.

* * *

Pathfinder – Chapter 2

* * *

On the bridge of the _Nemesis_ , Soundwave stood in his usual position at the computer banks, working quickly, diligently, and above all, silently. Currently, he was contemplating the signals that had appeared on the planet mere days ago, one Decepticon that his data banks had identified as Airachnid (who had yet to report in, despite protocol), and another, encrypted, which had gone unidentified. It hadn't been one of the Autobots (unless they had suddenly decided to test out a completely new system for hiding their signals), nor had it been one of the Decepticons under his watch or in his database.

Upon deducing that it must have been an outsider, Soundwave had used the planet's satellite imagery, and found a shot, if blurry, of the interloper in vehicle form, flying above the tree line of the forest Airachnid had been in. With the technology accessible to him, enhancing the image for clarity was simple.

Unnoticeable to the other mechs on the bridge, Soundwave had paused uncharacteristically for a moment as he took in the figure on his screen. Then his digits went into overdrive, pulling up the foreign signal once again and running a comparison against another he had in the back of his processor. The signal was somewhat encrypted, true, but the method of encryption itself could be a clue.

His progress was interrupted, as per usual, by the oily tones of Starscream, self-proclaimed leader of the Decepticons so long as Megatron laid motionless in the medbay.

"Soundwave, now that Knock Out has had the chance to examine Lord Megatron, I believe that the both of us should hear his diagnosis," Starscream suggested self-assuredly. "We should be in unanimous agreement as to our next course of action… in accordance with the results, of course."

If he weren't so stupidly irritating, Soundwave might have been amused by Starscream's little schemes – to be exact, by the way he seemed to think that Soundwave was unaware of his plots. On the _Nemesis_ , at the very least, he did pride himself on 'seeing and hearing everything,' or in cultivating the impression that he did – as Starscream had so urgently hissed at Knock Out a mere hours earlier, when they were conspiring to portray their recovering Lord as a hopeless cause to be euthanized.

Still, it was often better to humor the seeker than openly confront him. Such a thing was barely ever needed in the first place with the rate that Starscream seemed to sabotage himself.

Inwardly annoyed at having to leave his work, but all too loyal and willing to stop yet another attempt on Megatron's life, Soundwave gave a silent assent, and followed Starscream toward the medbay.

The signal could wait. If it was who he thought it was… sheer curiosity would prevent them from simply leaving.

* * *

High in Earth's orbit, a modified Cybertronian research vessel designated the _Telescopic_ floated serenely. Not so calm was its owner; bent over the stasis-locked form of Airachnid on her operating table, Farsight peered at the results on the high-powered scanner held in her palm. Instead of her usual smile, a slight frown tugged at the edges of her lips.

She had made only minimal progress in examining Airachnid's configuration, in between sifting through the "Earth's" primitive data-net. She wasn't precisely sure whether or not she was going to stay for any extended period of time, but still – better to know, no?

But upon looking into the available information, she was nearly driven to distraction. Her mind (superior though it was) simply couldn't reconcile all of the blatant similarities she had noticed between this world and Cybertron. The humans were like tiny, fleshy Cybertronians, with about 90% of their biology having corresponding components with her own species'. She had found similarities in body language and gestures, in cultural development in certain parts of the globe – even much of their wildlife had counterparts. She had never seen such a thing before in all her years, on seemingly completely unrelated planets at that. Even in the case of Cybertronian colonies, there had been more differences than what she was seeing after such a long time period in which no contact had been made.

It was highly improbable. And irritating, since she didn't know the cause behind the existence of such an improbability. And even more irritating, since, unlike usual, she didn't have an idea of where she might find the answers she wanted.

A ping on her visor interrupted her pointless musing. It was an alert from the _Telescopic's_ sensors, declaring that a transmission had been intercepted – and that said transmission had been deliberately sent at them, meaning someone was aware of her ship's presence, if not her identity.

She looked up from her work, glanced back at it, and vented slightly before standing up and heading toward the front. A bit of distance would most likely help her progress once she came back to it.

She delicately tapped one of the buttons on her console, and was surprised by what awaited her.

"Well isn't this nostalgic?" she murmured.

"A cipher? And a relatively simple one, at that," Blindside noted. "Why do you know it?"

"A simple cipher it may be, but it is a very particular one," Farsight replied. "As in I was the one who created it – long before the War for Cybertron began. You wouldn't know since it was around when you were still in stasis, recovering from your Reformatting."

Blindside grunted in acknowledgement, not exactly thrilled to remember that point in his history. "Still, _you_ created this?" he asked in disbelief. "I'm pretty sure the codes you're capable of making are a lot more sophisticated. Even the ones you made way back then."

"Yes, well, this cipher was created with simplicity in mind. I used it to start a student of mine on decryption techniques," she told him, tapping a short sequence on the console that would automatically translate the code.

"Huh. Is that student the one who sent this then?"

"I believe so. I didn't teach him to _share_ with others (even something basic like this code), and he's unlikely to have changed much, even after all this time. It's most probable that he kept it to himself. I'm more surprised that he hasn't simple erased it from his databanks, given how irrelevant such an ineffective encryption would be to his current occupation."

"How do you even know what his current occupation is, if you haven't seen him since Cybertron?"

Farsight answered him absentmindedly, reading over the decoded message. "Like I said, he's unlikely to have changed much. He was a very steady mech – highly dedicated to whatever cause or bot he dedicated himself to. It's one of the reasons I agreed to teach him in the first place. Plus, he's well-known enough that I could easily hear it around if anything drastic had changed with him."

"…well-known… This student of yours… Considering he's contacting you now of all times, does that mean he's a higher up in one of the factions stationed on this planet?" Blindside asked with slight distaste, never having been a huge fan of the war, or indeed, other Cybertronians in general.

"Precisely, Blindside," she smiled, pleased at both her partner's acuity and the message's contents. "I do hope that you can put aside your well-warranted distaste for the majority of our species for a moment, because I've just received an intriguing invitation."

A signal popped up on the _Telescopic's_ radar, and seconds later a small deployer drone whirred as it zipped closer. It slowed to a stationary hover directly in view, presumably obtaining video surveillance. Some sort of confirmation between host and deployer must have occurred, because soon after, the standard green light of a ground-bridge shone through the front window.

Blindside let out an exasperated groan. "Is whatever he said _that_ interesting?"

Farsight smiled. "Enough to make me _very_ curious."

* * *

The Vehicons on the bridge of the _Nemesis_ attempted to unobtrusively observe the ground-bridge that had been opened by Soundwave. Considering that Soundwave didn't seem to do much of his own initiative, they were all highly curious – just not enough to be suicidally blatant about it.

Several of them whipped their helms back to their consoles as Lazerbeak flew back through and reattached to Soundwave's torso. He was followed promptly by a sleek-looking jet which, as soon as it was through the portal, transformed into a complete stranger who landed in a graceful crouch.

She stood, and her helm turned in a slow, sweeping arc. Though her optics were covered by a visor, several of the Vehicons were given the impression that she had stared right at them. Then her arms crossed nonchalantly behind her back, and she smiled as she swiveled to face Soundwave.

"Hello, my dear. It's been quite some time, hasn't it? That trigger program to call your Deployer, hidden within the coding was quite sophisticated."

Soundwave nodded in confirmation at the greeting and subtle praise, and without further ado, turned to walk away.

Many of the Vehicons forgot themselves at the surrealism of that sentence being directed at _Soundwave_ , and stared blatantly after the clearly crazy femme as she followed the communications chief out of the room.

"Straight to business then? Then I shall limit myself to saying it is pleasant to see your improvements, and speak no further on the subject of our reunion," she said, and rather than disappointed, she sounded somewhat enthusiastic. "Your message indicated that Megatronus – excuse me, _Megatron_ was displaying an unusual response to being on the receiving end of a cortical psychic patch?"

Soundwave slowed in his smooth, mechanical prowl, and his visor blinked and displayed the abnormal vital signs. Farsight craned her head for a moment.

"Hmm. May I?" she gestured with a claw toward the information on his display.

He tilted his head. Then, an incoming data packet showed itself on the inside of her visor, and their walk resumed its previous pace.

Farsight muttered under her breath as she looked over the new information, too quiet for even Soundwave's keen equipment to pick most of it up. He managed to catch the gleeful words "…how intriguing" and thought to himself that he had been correct in presuming that his past teacher had not changed over the ages.

They soon reached the doors to the medbay, which promptly opened at Soundwave's command. Inside were two mechs, seemingly discussing something – she caught a word or two about a lens of some sort. Farsight recognized the slim, grey flier as the rather infamous Starscream – a seeker, she noted with some amusement. (She had always found them interesting to watch. In the air, they were beautifully graceful; on the ground, they were funny as the Pit, trying to balance and move on unfamiliar territory.)

The red one would have been a little more difficult to identify, had she not actually seen him once before back on Cybertron, when she had been going through medical training for the nth time (It was one of those fields in which she had to take a refresher course every so often in order to stay on top of new advancements). More interestingly, she had also seen him illegally running a Reformatting operation on the side. Since she didn't easily forget… well, _anything_ , her memory quickly came up with the name Knock Out.

Starscream spun, a picture of nervousness at the sound of the opening door, his face twisting and his wings twitching. "Soundwave! There's something you needed to tell me? In person?" His optics drifted to the side and, catching sight of Farsight, his tense grimace twisted into a frown. "Like perhaps why there is an unauthorized presence aboard the _Nemesis_?"

Farsight merely smiled, somewhat entertained by his ridiculous expressions. Soundwave pulled up a bit of text on his visor that declared her to be a medic with a vast knowledge of processor mechanics.

"I doubt it has escaped your notice," Starscream drawled. "But we _do_ have a doctor already." He gestured a taloned hand in the direction of Knock Out.

"…'Better at breaking 'em than fixing 'em'…" Knock Out's voice played out from Soundwave's audio system with a faint electronic overlay.

Starscream scowled, but Knock Out shrugged and acknowledged it as truth, though he was slightly unnerved that he had been recorded like that.

"Yet surely you of all people, Soundwave, would not trust our Lord's well-being to an… unknown," Starscream interjected once again, his optics rolling over Farsight's frame once again. His faceplates contorted in outrage as he noticed the distinct lack of a faction insignia. "A _neutral_ at that! What were you thinking, bringing an _unterminated_ _neutral_ anywhere _near_ the warship?!"

Farsight glanced to the side at Soundwave and jerked her helm toward the indignant seeker in question. Soundwave nodded in turn.

"I believe that he was thinking I am perhaps the most well-versed there is regarding the particulars of the cortical psychic patch, other than the esteemed Shockwave of course. Thusly, I am perhaps the best option to diagnose and assist your Lord Megatron," Farsight stated, her tone mild. She tilted her head. "And technically, I suppose that I do not qualify as an 'unknown,' given that Soundwave has known me for quite some time. Now if you'll kindly step aside…"

Ignoring any reaction Starscream might have had, Farsight moved past him toward the medbay's computer, eager to get to work on her newest puzzle. Her fingers tapped rapid-fire, bringing up past records of Megatron's status – before, during and after the Autobots' little foray into his caged mind.

Starscream spluttered, and spun to face Soundwave again. "Who _is_ she?!" he hissed.

"…'Your input is highly useful, Farsight'…" a voice played from Soundwave's speakers, and it took Starscream a moment to recognize it as Shockwave's.

"Is that Shockwave?!" he squawked. "How is it that some neutral is known to what seems to be the entire Decepticon high-command, other than myself?!"

"…'a medic'…'in the pits of Kaon!'…"

Starscream's face showed his alarm, both at the information and at the voice of his (hopefully defunct) Lord emanating from the speakers.

"Hmm," Farsight hummed in contemplation. She turned her head to face Knock Out. "As the resident medic, would you say that Megatron's processor was fully functional before the Autobots' little _incursion_?"

Knock Out seemed a little surprised at being directly addressed, and shot a glance at Starscream, who looked none too happy with the turn of events. For a moment, he hesitated, but the looming form of Soundwave had him answering her.

"Well, given that his physical condition kept him in stasis, we're not absolutely certain that it was _fully_ functional," he began delicately. The next moment, his optics darted to Soundwave and he hastily continued. "However, he did show signs of brainwave activity that could have indicated a returning consciousness."

"'Brainwave' activity?" Farsight rolled the unfamiliar terminology around her mouth, and a definition from the humans' 'Internet' scrolled across her visor. "I see."

She turned to face the screen once more. "During the patch, said _activity_ gradually spiked to reach levels seen in fully conscious mechs. I'd say when the scout entered his subconscious, he "woke" Megatron up."

Knock Out snorted and crossed his arms. "Ironic."

Farsight smiled. "Yes, I highly doubt that was their desired outcome."

A cable extended from her torso, whipping across the room to seize the patch cord that the Autobot had used on Megatron. Farsight caught it deftly, and held it delicately as she ran an in-depth scan.

Starscream, who had hopped clumsily backwards out of its path, looked warily between her and Soundwave. "You aren't… related, are you?"

Farsight's lip twitched, but she ignored the question as she finished her examination. Soundwave held his usual silence, likewise deeming the question not worth answering.

"Given that there are no aberrations in this cord, the decisive factor of this whole event must be Megatron himself," Farsight stated.

She set the cord down on one of the tables, and took only took a step or two toward the prone warlord on the medical berth, opting to scan him from a distance. Student of hers he may be, but she doubted that Soundwave trusted her _that_ much. Besides, her scanners were strong enough that distance didn't exactly matter.

"Less red and more purple, isn't he?" she murmured to no one in particular, only half paying attention to anything but her scan.

Her optics, hidden behind her visor, widened for a moment at the results – flowing through his frame was a formula she recognized from the final days of war, before the Great Exodus from Cybertron. Dark Energon. She hid her surprise at the fact that he had seemingly found and utilized a new supply of the volatile substance, particularly considering the results from the last time. But it was not the time to contemplate such things, so she tucked the data into the back of her processor for later, and turned to address the others as though nothing particularly intriguing had caught her attention.

"This is partially based on theory, you must understand. From what I am aware of, the cortical psychic patch has never been used on a… patient in such a condition as Megatron's. It's quite a unique case, very intriguing," she mused. "What I am postulating, is that because Megatron's conscious mind was within his subconscious at the time of the patch, he was abnormally aware of the intrusion. This awareness could have feasibly allowed him to exert a certain amount of control, despite being on the receiving end of the procedure."

"Meaning _what,_ exactly?" Starscream growled, his talons flexing irritably.

"The patch is normally a strictly one-way flow. A security feature included so that the victim could not reverse the process. After all, it would hardly be an effective method of information-gathering if such a thing were possible."

"But you believe that's not the case here," Knock Out interjected, curious despite himself.

"No," Farsight agreed, turning to face the other three. "It's highly likely, given his current lack of any sort of processor activity, that Megatron's mind has gone elsewhere. And given that the easiest, quickest, and perhaps _only_ path outwards was the patch…"

There was silence for a moment.

"You mean… Lord Megatron is currently occupying the Autobot's body," Knock Out stated in astonishment.

Starscream remained suspiciously quiet.

"Precisely. I wouldn't worry overly much, Soundwave," Farsight smiled. "Knowing him, your Lord Megatron is most probably on his way to recovery – and I mean that literally."


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Here's the next one. Enjoy – and please review. It'd be nice to know what my readers think, feedback often helps the creative process, etc. (Plus, honestly, this section gets so little coverage that it's a crime – TFP totally deserves more.) On that note, a thanks to FireNekoDemoness for the kind remarks.

* * *

Pathfinder – Chapter 3

* * *

Directly after hearing Farsight's prediction for Megatron's rapidly approaching recovery, Starscream had stalked out of the room, practically radiating anxious, angry denial from his vents. Knock Out had glanced between the other two remaining and quickly excused himself to assist the second-in-command with his latest project.

Farsight and Soundwave relocated soon after, heading back toward the bridge. She turned toward him. Not many would have noticed, but she could see that his posture wasn't as tense as it had been before hearing her prognosis. As per usual, Megatron's well-being was one of his top priorities. Farsight smiled, glad to see that he hadn't changed much – well, except for his more obvious alterations.

"You've slimmed down some Soundwave, in favor of a few interesting modifications, I see," she noted. "Is this because of the lack of frontline combat? I imagine that with both sides having scattered their forces, much of the fighting has turned into hit-and-run tactics."

Soundwave nodded.

"And you haven't spoken a word either – not that you were ever particularly verbose."

"…'vow of silence'…" Soundwave played back, the voice unrecognizable to her. Then he paused, and continued, this time with soundbites of Farsight's voice. "…'information is the advantage'…'Subsequently, if you are able to limit the information available to your enemies, it decreases their advantage'…"

"You started recording that far back, then?" she asked him, somewhat amused at having one of her lessons parroted back at her. "Well, whatever else has changed about you, it seems that your personality is much the same."

Soundwave paused for a moment, before nodding. "…'it seems that your personality is much the same'…"

"Yes, I am quite content to remain as I have been. It's suited me well over the ages," she returned with a playful tone of primness.

Abruptly, Soundwave stopped walking as an alert from the _Nemesis_ pinged him. The enemy had been caught on the exterior cameras. But Autobots coming to foil Starscream's little plan with melting the glacier wasn't what concerned him. What _did_ was that one of his _interior_ cameras, specifically the one in the medbay, was also currently showing an intrusion of Autobots. It was the scout and medic, accompanied by one of their human allies.

Judging by their actions, it appeared that Farsight had been correct to assume that Megatron was currently inhabiting the yellow one's frame.

He monitored the situation carefully, not bothering to interfere beyond signaling a group of Vehicons to convene outside the medbay door. Megatron was as capable as always, even in someone else's body – the opposition was quickly (and literally) knocked out of the way. The body on the medical berth was promptly hooked up with a patch once more, and infused with a new chunk of Dark Energon.

"Am I allowed to know what has happened?" Farsight asked him, her curiosity evident.

Soundwave tilted his head as Megatron stood, completely healed.

"…'Decepticons, your rightful lord and master has returned!'…"

"Oh my. That quick? I had expected to be off his ship by the time he came back," she said. She sounded more thoughtful than worried. "He has never exhibited a charitable view on neutrals."

"…'join the Decepticons!'…" he replied simply. From the harsh tone, it sounded as though the words 'I'll never' had been edited out.

Farsight smiled, but shook her head. "Ah, but it would be a shame to ruin my independent streak."

A moment later, a deafening explosion rocked the entire warship, follow by an intense shockwave. Thankfully, the both of them had firm enough footing to ensure that they swayed rather than stumbled. Farsight glanced upwards.

"Is this a common occurrence? Everything happening all at once?" she asked, sounding almost entertained.

"…'You are no match for Optimus Prime'…'Starscream, you fool!'…" Soundwave played back, accompanied by an image of Starscream leaping away from the controls of some heat-ray which was in the midst of being destroyed by said Prime.

"I see. It's simply a highly unbalanced matchup between competence and incompetence."

The two of them resumed their walk towards the bridge.

"Shall I leave now then, and we'll settle the matter of the favor I am owed at a later time?" Farsight asked.

In return, Soundwave displayed an image of an enraged Megatron dragging Starscream by the face to the top of the warship, presumably in order to enact a severe beat down.

"Not in the best of moods, I see," she stated delicately. "I'll take that as confirmation."

A ground-bridge opened up in the hallway.

"And don't worry, my dear. I shall see you much sooner than our previous time apart may suggest," she called over her shoulder as she stepped through the light. "If I had been planning on leaving to escape our species' war, I would have the astrosecond I realized that message was from you – you and Megatron tend to come as a set, after all. But I think I'll remain, if not participate actively. Things around here are simply too _interesting_."

* * *

Megatron strode onto the bridge of his ship, slightly less irritated after the cathartic, well-deserved thrashing he'd given Starscream. The seeker would live, hadn't even been maimed, but hopefully he would take some blissfully plot-free time to recover.

Thankfully not all of his subordinates were like his treacherous Air Commander. He'd have probably committed mass murder by now in favor of fighting the Autobots single-handedly if that were the case.

He turned to face Soundwave, who had commed him when he had finished his previous occupation.

"You wished to speak with me about something, Soundwave?"

In reply, the communications chief displayed a full-body profile, accompanied by a newly-taken photograph.

Megatron's optics shuttered for a moment as his processor whirled – it had to reach much further back than it had needed to in a long time. "…Farsight?" He leaned in slightly. "On the _Nemesis_? Explain yourself."

In reply, Soundwave showed four images in quick succession: Farsight and Shockwave (long before he had lost one of his hands in the war and replaced it with a cannon), heads bent together and discussing something in the shabby medical bay used by the Kaon gladiators; a cord used for a cortical psychic patch; the yellow Autobot scout hooked up to his motionless body by said cord; and finally, an image of his own flat-lining brainwaves in the aftermath.

"I see. Calling in an expert to explain my condition," Megatron mused. He turned to look at the _Nemesis'_ main screen. "I do respect your judgment, Soundwave. However, what made you think she could be trusted – particularly given that she has given no allegiance?"

Another quick succession of images: Farsight in various states of enthralled interest as she examined complicated, difficult to repair wounds on several different gladiators.

"…'It's quite a unique case, very intriguing'…"

Megatron vented dryly. " _She_ hasn't changed at all."

Soundwave shook his head.

"Still…" Megatron continued with a sharp look. "Considering we haven't seen plate nor circuit of her since she left the pits, how is it that she was stumbled upon just as her expertise was required?"

Soundwave, who had wondered much the same thing, showed the results of his investigation. There were two satellite images that he had pulled before they could be edited out in an Autobot cover-up. First a ship, smoking from the rear and crashing into a pine forest, followed by a slightly blurred image of a Cybertronian jet, carrying a captive. Lastly, he brought up Airachnid's profile.

One of Megatron's eye-ridges inched upward. "She shot down and captured Airachnid."

Soundwave's head tilted in question. "…'assist'…?"

Megatron frowned. "No. Airachnid has always been too... independent for my tastes. Given that she has failed to report to me upon entering the same star system, that trend has continued. Furthermore, she was weak enough to get herself captured in the first place. She shall be left to her fate."

Soundwave nodded, and gave no further input. Megatron eyed him. Eons of camaraderie had taught him to notice when the other had something else to say.

"What else is there, Soundwave?" he asked straightforwardly.

"…'I think I'll remain'…'Things around here are simply too _interesting_ '…"

"She hasn't left?" Megatron's back straightened in surprise. "Surprising, considering how _thoroughly_ Farsight has thus far avoided getting involved."

Soundwave displayed Farsight's full-body profile once again. Then he edited the image, placing the Decepticon insignia on the middle of her chestplate.

"You… wish to recruit her," Megatron said, his face unreadable.

Soundwave nodded and strung together another two audio clips. "…'But, Lord Megatron!'…'has never exhibited a charitable view on neutrals'…"

Megatron let out a derisive scoff (partially at the use of Starscream's voice for the first clip). "True," he conceded with a hint of a sharp-toothed smirk.

He looked thoughtful for a moment before continuing. "However, you know of my reasons. And Farsight's circumstances… have exempted her, shall we say, from falling under the scope of my disdain for the neutrals."

Soundwave's head tilted, and he nodded.

The Autobots, more often than not, would say Megatron didn't require a reason to hate something or someone. However, the leader of the Decepticons _did_ have a legitimate thought process behind his dislike of the Cybertronians who refused to choose a side.

For the most part, he hated the idea that those oppressed by the draconian caste system were too weak-sparked to rise up and fight back against the corruption. Of course, that only went for the unfortunate majority. In regards to the select, lucky few who _benefitted_ from the injustice of the Functionist government, Megatron was similarly disgusted by the idea that they wouldn't bother lifting a digit to quell his revolution.

Farsight, however, had climbed up from the Well of Allsparks long before the end of the Golden Age (Or possibly before the beginning of it – she had never been quite clear about her age). She had never been sorted and assigned by the Guilds, into a class according to her most natural alternate mode. Instead, from what Megatron knew, she had traversed the lines between castes with an irreverent ease, falsifying whatever records she needed in order to learn what she wanted.

Yes, she had never joined a side in their war, but in her case, the decision was not inspired by a feeble spark. Megatron had personally seen evidence of her character in the gladiator pits, where most of the fighters had no compunctions in hassling anyone who looked like an easy target. It was far more likely that having already subverted the system in regards to herself, she hadn't cared to take up the fight for countless others.

To Megatron, increasingly a Social Darwinist in his thought processes after countless years of war, this was an acceptable reason. Why should the strong sacrifice for the weak, or unwilling?

"Besides," Megatron grinned sharply. "The very fact that she has survived this long as a neutral is testament to her strength and ingenuity."

He contemplated a little longer before giving his answer. "I give you leave to recruit her, Soundwave," he told the silent mech. "Such talent could be of great use to me."

Then he turned to leave the bridge.

"I doubt she'll make it easy for you, Soundwave," he paused in his exit. "However, should you find evidence that her allegiances are leaning toward that of our enemies… I trust you shall treat her accordingly."

Soundwave, unseen, hesitated for a moment. Then he nodded.

* * *

"Okay, I knew you worked as a surgeon for the gladiators in Kaon while I was in stasis, but you never said anything about knowing the biggest names of the Decepticon faction," Blindside spoke up as soon as the ground-bridge shut.

Farsight, who was in a far better mood than she had been before Soundwave's message and her subsequent visit to the warship, merely smiled at her partner's incredulity.

"Yes, well, given how I've been avoiding the conflict for all this time, that information has never exactly been relevant, has it?"

"…And you have been _avoiding_ it, right?" he asked hesitantly, suddenly a little unsure. "I mean, you seemed pretty chummy with the quiet guy. That screechy flier even asked if you were _related_."

Farsight stilled in surprise. "Blindside, my dear, I would have thought you knew me well enough to realize that I'm not exactly the _type_ to join sides in a war. I am simply not capable of dedicating myself to some sort of distant, grand ideal or the general vague notion of "the good of the universe" – no matter how fond I may be of certain _individuals_ , my own priorities tend to come first."

"Yeah, but you've been known to go to pretty great lengths for individuals that you're _fond_ of," Blindside countered dryly. "Here's me submitting myself as evidence."

She tilted her head and didn't bother denying it. "Now that I think of it, that sort of individual-centered thinking is something Soundwave and I share. His circumstances simply had his best friend set up as one of the leaders in a revolution-turned-civil-war."

"That doesn't exactly make me any less worried about you getting involved in all this," Blindside deadpanned. "Given that _Soundwave_ is one of _your_ 'individuals.'"

"Well, that's somewhat different," she explained blithely. "After all, when I helped you out, I was also technically fulfilling my own goals by gaining an extremely intelligent and competent partner. Besides, that sort of thinking wouldn't apply to joining sides in this war, no matter how fond I may be of Soundwave – I take loyalty very seriously. I'd have to really believe in a cause to pledge myself to it, not be seduced by my curiosity."

She smiled. "Though I must admit, I _have_ heard some very interesting things about Decepticon engineering."

Blindside let loose with a long-suffering sigh and muttered something like 'so much for not getting seduced by her curiosity'.

"In all seriousness, Blindside," she changed her tone to match her words. "I don't really believe either side is worth joining at this point. Maybe before Megatronus had gotten so far off track. Maybe before our entire planet went dark… Most wars aren't generally worth it, but this one in particular seems to have become rather pointless. It's just an endless cycle of grudges and vengeance between two teams of sore losers."

Blindside mulled her words over, neither of them having ever really talked with each other much about their species' great war – much less with Farsight dropping her usual cheer in favor of a serious demeanor.

"Besides, you happen to be at the top of my "beloved individuals" list. Which means higher than Soundwave," she said as though it were obvious, once again donning her usual joviality. "And both sides would come with certain… restrictions on my activities – what with the Autobots' general self-righteousness and the Decepticons', shall we say, _militancy_. You know how I _dislike_ being told what not to do."

"Yes I do," he replied wryly.

Farsight smiled once more, and slid into her captain's chair. "Good! Now that your fretting has been calmed, I believe we should both look over the information we have on Dark Energon again. I have no doubt that Megatron has taken to its use once more, given its prominence in his energon flow."

"Isn't that stuff what made Cybertron go dark?" Blindside asked dubiously. "Why would he use it _again_?"

"Like I said, he's gotten quite far off track," Farsight replied. "More power, less care for the consequences of its exertion."

" _Nice_."

"All the more reason for a refresher, my dear."


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Next one, out! Please give me some feedback so I know how I'm doing!

* * *

Pathfinder – Chapter 4

* * *

A feeble groan echoed around the small laboratory. Airachnid was cuffed down to the operating table, groggy from her time spent forcefully knocked offline and shoved into a stasis pod.

"Hush now, I'm merely switching you over to medically-induced stasis, in order to garner a more natural response during my research," Farsight cooed. "You'll not wake again."

"…you. What… are you…?" she managed to aim a slightly unfocused glare at the figure looming over her.

"It's actually something of a kindness on my part," Farsight continued. "From past experience, I can tell you that it is _highly_ unpleasant to be online when… exploratory surgery is being performed on you."

Airachnid's processor seemed to clear somewhat at the implications in those words. Her optics widened, before narrowing as they darted around the room, glancing over the cable attached to her chest plates and coming to a stop on the energy cuffs holding her down. They were relatively simple restraints, with no added features that she could see. A smirk slid onto her face, followed a moment later by a whirring noise as her armor plates shifted in preparation for a transformation.

It didn't happen. She didn't transform.

"What?!" Airachnid cried. "What have you done?!"

The sound echoed around the room again several times – each attempt as futile as the first try.

Farsight smiled at her outrage. "See how nice it is to be spared the unpleasant parts? You didn't feel a thing when I removed your t-cog."

Airachnid shot her a look of rage mixed with terror, neck straining as she craned her head around, looking for options. Farsight gently reached out a claw and pressed down on the front of her 'patient's' helm, forcing her down until her head clanked against the operating table.

"It must be difficult for you – to not be the one with the upper hand," Farsight noted casually. "From what I saw in your ship's logs, you're very used to being the smartest, or at least trickiest, person in a confrontation. It seems you've been outclassed this time."

Her head tilted, examining the expression on the other's face. "But you knew that, didn't you? You _are_ quite the coward. You knew that I tend to avoid any Autobot/Decepticon conflicts, so the second you realized I was out for a hunt, you headed directly toward the epicenter of them all in hopes that I wouldn't follow. Unfortunately for you, my hunger for knowledge and will to see things through have both led me straight to you, regardless of your… hm. Tactics."

Farsight leaned closer, her smile widening. "You have no alternate modes, no weapons, and nowhere to run to."

In the background, one of the devices let out a beep, signaling the beginning of the medical stasis. As the spider began to lose awareness once more, Farsight removed her claw from Airachnid's head in favor of turning to look at the advanced readings that had been brought up on the monitors.

"Game over, Airachnid. Sleep well."

* * *

Who knows how long later, Farsight was still engrossed in the data she was receiving from her latest project. The Quintessons, however twisted they might have been (and however little she had appreciated their attempts to subjugate her race), had been in possession of brilliant minds.

Or, at least brilliant enough to conceptualize and fulfill the delicate balance between organic and inorganic that she was seeing in Airachnid's composition.

It almost didn't compute with her, that they could accomplish such a work of art… but they had apparently never realized that perhaps the much larger, much stronger, _much_ more adaptable Cybertronians could possibly overthrow their rule, if given sufficient reason. And the Quintessons had certainly given them sufficient reason, what with their plans to strip the Cybertronians of all individuality and sell them off as a slave race.

Acts of cruelty had never been a smart option, and that was obvious if one cared to think it through properly. Ultimately, all cruelty did was propagate more cruelty – or at the very least, garner self-righteous moralists coming after you for crossing a line they found reprehensible. And still, so many had fallen into the trap of callous hostility that it boggled her mind.

A ping hit her visor. She found that somewhat unusual, given that her laboratory time generally doubled as don't-interrupt-Farsight time.

"Blindside, my dear, you know how rarely I indulge myself with a live test subject – most of the time they just aren't worth the trouble. This time it was. So I presume you have a valid reason for interrupting my research?"

"Sure I do, boss," Blindside agreed, sounding almost flustered. "You know those sensors you had calibrated to detect Dark Energon?"

Farsight immediately straightened from her position hunched over a monitor.

"Where is it? What type of activity?"

"Just an exposed signal – moving rapidly. It's like someone's just carrying around a chunk of the stuff in the open. Definitely a flier, judging by the speed and terrain."

"Hmm. I'll take a look myself."

She walked onto the bridge a moment later, eyeing the map and signal that had already been pulled up.

"Are we in position to get a close up?" she asked.

"Fortunately, we are. It seems that a majority of the Cybertronian conflict on this planet has occurred within the continent the natives call 'North America,' and I thus took the liberty of placing the _Telescopic_ in orbit above said continent."

"Excellent work, Blindside," Farsight grinned, and typed a few commands into the ship's computer.

It had been named the _Telescopic_ for a reason. The outer panels of her ship had been specially modified – by her, of course – with a very particular purpose in mind. They functioned as a series of specialized lenses, enabling the collection and utilization of light for various different functions.

One such function allowed the ship to focus and magnify images – within a sincerely impressive range. And it was strong enough to allow for the capture of detailed images on the surface of most planets from the distance of orbit. In all honesty, it worked even better in space, given that there was no sort of interference for the light within a vacuum.

On the monitor, an image of North America popped up. As the Dark Energon signal slowed to a stop, the view zoomed in to its location in the southwest part of the United States of America. Farsight tapped another command, and the map shifted itself over into a live-action view.

"It's not Megatron. That's unexpected," Blindside commented. "I wouldn't have thought he'd be the type of guy who shares his toys."

"He isn't," Farsight replied musingly. "However, Starscream was once in charge of security for an off-world facility that contained and (with many regulations and limits) studied Dark Energon before and during the War – he is most likely more familiar with it than... almost anyone, barring Shockwave and Megatron. Furthermore, his obvious injuries are likely the ones he recently received from his leader. Starscream's knowledge in the substance, combined with his current disgruntlement equals the high chance that he has gone behind Megatron's back to acquire this bit."

"Makes sense. What's he gonna use it for, though?"

"There's no use in guesswork when we can simply observe."

On screen, Starscream snapped a shard of Dark Energon in half, tossing part into the crevices of what looked like a crude pile of rocks (but also could have been a makeshift cairn of some sort), and shoving the rest of it directly through his chest plates and into his spark. There was a flash of purple energy, blooming to surround Starscream's frame, and flowing into the earth below him. He held his hands aloft and laughed soundlessly.

There was a complete silence on the _Telescopic_ , Starscream's watchers struck dumb by his sheer idiocy.

"Why would he _do_ that?!" Blindside asked, appalled. "He just _shoved_ it in! Who even thinks something like that up?"

Farsight leaned closer to the screen, optics wide behind her visor. "He… didn't hesitate at all. Starscream doesn't exactly seem the brave sort, so he has to think that this will work how he wants it to…" she paused. "He isn't following _Megatron's_ example _,_ is he? Because if that's the case… Megatron has definitely gotten crazier."

A ground-bridge opened suddenly, and four Autobots came through. Optimus Prime was easily recognizable, as was Ratchet, who aside from being one of the Prime's most prominent allies, was famous in certain medical circles. The green one, she recognized as an ex-Wrecker (those were always interesting files to go through – though not exactly geniuses, they were a very inventive lot, the Wreckers) named Bulkhead, and the yellow one was the scout named Bumblebee who had recently had Megatron on his mind. The blue femme she had noticed when she had first arrived on planet was absent.

'So, at least five Autobots on this planet,' Farsight mused. 'It's admirable that they have managed this long, given how vastly outnumbered they are.'

There was a small scuffle on screen, in which Starscream fired a rocket at the opposition, and promptly called for a ground-bridge of his own after getting his arm blown off in return.

The Autobots' attention seemed to be caught by something else, and Farsight redirected the _Telescopic's_ lenses to focus on what they were looking at. It was three of the tiny organic natives – one of which she remembered from his presence when she had captured Airachnid.

"Interesting. I suppose it makes sense that an alliance could be made between two species with so many similarities – well, at least the Autobots would make such an alliance," she amended herself, doubting that the Decepticons would bother with such frail creatures. "Although why beings with such fragile frames (much less those who look to be very young by their species' standards) would be on a potential battlefield is beyond me."

The Autobots logically sent for a ground-bridge to evacuate their tiny comrades.

A flicker of green crossed the edge of the screen, and Farsight zoomed out to see streams of energy flowing between the Autobots' portal and Starscream's portal. The two different currents ebbed and surged against each other, increasingly volatile. Moments after the three humans made it through their bridge, there was a violent reaction as the energy exploded outward; the Autobots were knocked to the ground, and both bridges snapped shut.

"…why do so many weird things happen on this planet?" Blindside asked.

"I don't know," Farsight replied, completely fascinated, theories whirling away alongside potential plans to mess around with ground-bridges in the future. "But I am very glad I decided to stay for a while."

After picking themselves up, and having a brief discussion, the Autobots bridged away once more.

"Is that it?" Blindside asked, sounding like he had been interrupted in watching a particularly entertaining vid-file.

Farsight hummed for a moment. She dialed back the view a little further, looking at the area in a bigger frame. She examined it and then pointed a claw at the screen.

"See anything missing?"

The cairn was empty. All that remained was a deep bowl carved into the canyon floor.

She vented slightly. "I'll keep this monitor running for another cycle, and direct a few sensors there just to be thorough. I'm going back to work with our guest. If anything unusual pops up, wait until I'm finished to tell me this time, will you my dear?"

"Got it, boss."

* * *

When much, much later (at least several solar cycles later), Farsight had finished with her preliminary investigations – noting down the basics, and predicting how some of those 'basics' could be useful in the future – she got a report from Blindside about how Starscream's little Dark Energon scheme had resolved itself.

The Decepticon himself had returned to the scene, still missing an arm, only to be surprised by a ground-bridge opening up before him and spewing out three children and a hostilely animated, disembodied arm. The most relevant objects of interest were these: the ground-bridge had emitted a strange energy signature, stronger than what was normal, and almost… dual-toned; and the arm, which Blindside had courteously retrieved with a ground-bridge and sealed in a small quarantine unit, was still jittering and radiating small amounts of Dark Energon – its liveliness was somewhat at odds with the readings of her scanners, which indicated that said arm was 'dead.'

Farsight contemplated briefly. "Were there any communications emanating from those coordinates that the ship recorded?"

"Ah, let me check," Blindside murmured. A quiet beep sounded. "Here we are. A short message, no vocals, only text, sent from the cellular device of one Jackson Darby to a shielded recipient. All it says is: 'In alternate dimension with zombie. Help.'"

"An actual alternate dimension?" Farsight wondered. "Or merely a pocket of some sort of subspace that the humans mistook for one?"

"Well… isn't a _real_ alternate dimension some sort of Prime thing?" Blindside asked, not completely sure about commenting on something outside his expertise.

"Correct. Generally speaking, they would fall under the jurisdiction of Vector Prime," Farsight replied, spinning idly in her captain's chair. "Normally, he is regarded simply the commander of space and time, but the legends say he also has the ability to cross dimensions through usage of his personal artifact, the Blades of Time."

She paused, then sighed wistfully. "What I wouldn't give to examine just one of the relics of the Primes..."

"Uhuh," Blindside mumbled.

"Right, well, though it is an interesting thought, I highly doubt that Vector Prime had much to do with this little feedback loop between the ground-bridges," Farsight continued thoughtfully. "After all, the Autobots, with their presumably limited technology, were able to recreate what they needed of the accident in order to retrieve their human allies – if it had been the work of one of the original Primes, I doubt it would have been so simple to undo."

"So it was probably just the subspace thing, then."

"Precisely," Farsight replied. She frowned lightly as she continued. "However, what is more important right now is this usage of Dark Energon. Back on Cybertron, the Decepticons used it to directly empower themselves and to take control of various technologies. It worked to boost their strength and speed, but it was also a highly addictive substance. This soon resulted in violent withdrawals for the majority of the faction, considering its relatively rare supply. So while it ultimately granted Megatron the power that allowed him to defeat Omega Supreme, it also ravaged his forces by draining their stamina and mentality."

She began to tap at her crest with one of her claws as she continued to speak. Blindside listened attentively as she arrived at her main point.

"Here, it seems that Megatron, and subsequently Starscream, have found a different use for Dark Energon. And honestly, I find this one much more disturbing than the previous one, which amounted to performance enhancement and a quick way to unlock doors – albeit with severe side-effects," Farsight frowned. "Disturbing the dearly departed is one of those acts that I find 'crosses a line' with most people. In other words, it is yet another impractical and unnecessary cruelty."

She crossed her arms, her frown deepening.

"It may seem convenient to Megatron now – to have reusable warriors, or to be able to make his enemies fight their own deceased comrades, or whatever other uses he may come up with. But I believe this 'convenience' shall have great consequences in the future. Meddling in the matters of life and death in such a manner… quite frankly, it encroaches on the territory of The Destroyer. You'd think that Megatron, given his deep interest and belief in Cybertron's mythology, would be a bit more cautious in using a substance that has been referred to as 'the blood of Unicron.' I can't help but think this will end badly for him."

A grave silence filled the room at the mention of Primus' sinister counterpart, and Blindside knew his partner well enough to realize when she had made one of her eerily accurate predictions.

"So... should we still be sticking around?" he asked after a second or two.

Farsight seemed to shake herself out of her thoughts. "Hmm? I don't see why not. Megatron's the one inviting nasty consequences, and we aren't associated with him."

"Right. I hope it stays that way," Blindside muttered.

"I am _very_ good at staying out of things," Farsight reminded him cheerily.

"But equally as good at getting into things when it suits you," he deadpanned, not assured in the least.

Farsight didn't bother denying it. "Don't worry yourself, my dear. Even when I _do_ get into things, I always have a way _out_ of them."

"So far, at least," he vented tiredly.

"And besides, that's one of the reasons why _you're_ here, isn't it?" she continued with a smile. "To watch my back?"

Blindside vented once more, but when he spoke there was a hint of a grin in his voice. "Yeah. I'll watch your back, boss."


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: This wasn't as fast as the last few, but honestly I'm surprised I got it out this fast considering the start of classes again. Enjoy. Review (please).

* * *

Pathfinder – Chapter 5

* * *

"Hey, Boss," Blindside spoke up.

"Yes, what is it?" Farsight replied, not bothering to redirect her attention from the small device she was tinkering with.

"The surveillance measures you set up caught something weird."

"Hmm?"

"Yeah, there was a one-on-one Decepticon/Autobot scuffle between… Breakdown and Bulkhead, I think?"

Farsight looked up from her work with a dubious frown. "How is it 'weird' that two enemies fought each other? I suppose the small-scale nature of the conflict is somewhat unusual, given the Decepticon preference for Vehicon cannon fodder and the Autobot preference for backup..."

"Well that's the thing," Blindside continued, interrupting her before she could get on a roll. "Someone else _did_ show up – but it was a third party. Human. An organization or something, by the looks of 'em. Breakdown had Bulkhead floored, looked about ready to finish him off, and then the humans fired something at him that knocked him down and out."

"And then?"

"Then they took him," Blindside said, incredulity coloring his tone. The idea that one of the tiny natives of Earth had abducted a Cybertronian – much less a Decepticon, who likely wouldn't care about collateral damage – was almost ludicrous to him.

Farsight sat up, suddenly a little more serious than she had been at the start of their conversation.

"Do we know who these humans are, or why they took him?"

"Going by the data collected from the United States government database, they match the descriptions of an organization called MECH. They're led by a man named Silas, and their ultimate goal seems to be acquiring technological superiority," Blindside took a moment to collect his thoughts. "But, I uh, also noticed a few gaps in the information on them. The reports say that they were first encountered by an Agent Fowler, when MECH tried to seize a… 'Dynamic Nuclear Generation System' in mid-transport. What seems kinda off to me is that these guys seem to have a huge advantage over the average military forces – but they didn't succeed in nabbing the nuclear thing. And on top of that, they left pretty easily after failing. The only explanation given is that Agent Fowler called in some 'outside help.'"

Farsight nodded thoughtfully. "And what hypotheses have you come up with to explain these inconsistencies, Blindside?" she prompted him.

He began almost nervously. "…well, I looked up some more on this Fowler guy. There're huge parts empty in his recent files, and they're flagged to indicate that whatever's missing is all on hard copy instead of stored in the system – and there's a really high security clearance for accessing them," Blindside seemed to gain in confidence as he related his findings. "And when Fowler's been mentioned in reports by other guys, it's 'cause he's intercepted them from investigating strange signals, or given the order to evacuate an area. When I cross-referenced these instances with our findings of recent Cybertronian activity… This Fowler guy is definitely in on it."

"It isn't uncommon for the Autobots to cooperate with the locals," Farsight commented neutrally. "But getting to your point – you believe that this 'outside help' that Agent Fowler called in was the Autobots?"

"Yeah, boss, but more than that, I think that's why MECH's interest in the nuclear thing seemed so flaky – I mean, if they saw the Autobots in action… well, that's probably why they took Breakdown," Blindside concluded, sounding sure of his deduction, and vaguely disconcerted by its connotations.

"They wish to examine Cybertronian biology," Farsight stated evenly.

"Yeah."

A proud smile spread across Farsight's face. "Well done, my dear. You only seem to become more and more resourceful as time goes on."

"…thanks, boss," he replied, sounding almost bashful beneath his habitual bluntness.

The near-tender moment was brief, as just a while later, Farsight stood from her captain's chair and clapped her hands together decisively. "Well, then. I suppose I should get going."

"Going where?" Blindside asked, only his familiarity with her stopping him from being bewildered by the sudden shift.

"On a rescue mission for… Breakdown, was it?"

"…why would you do that?" he asked slowly.

"I suppose because I simply don't approve of MECH's actions," Farsight hummed as she leaned over the computer console. "May I have the coordinates of their little kidnapping?"

Blindside supplied them automatically, still somewhat confused. "And you don't 'approve,' _why_? It's not like you've got any problems with dissection."

Farsight smiled. "Perhaps if that were my primary motivation, I could see how you might think this uncharacteristically altruistic of me. I suppose if there was an overtly moralistic reason, it would be a certain sense of… solidarity – insomuch as while I don't particularly care what Cybertronians do to _each other_ , I dislike other groups butting in where they aren't wanted."

Blindside felt concussed, and wondered where the partner he knew had gone – clearly she had been replaced by some sort of shifter. Farsight had never shown any sort of favoritism toward any species, including her own.

"More importantly, while I myself have no issues with the practice of dissection (as evidenced by our 'guest' in the laboratory), I _am_ against what MECH would accomplish through such an examination of our biology," Farsight continued matter-of-factly. "From what I've seen of these humans, they have an intriguing potential. I wish to see how they will develop – particularly in relation to our own species, given our uncanny similarities. If MECH is successful in using our biomechanics to augment their own technology, these advances would eventually spread across their world, regardless of whatever monopoly they would certainly attempt to maintain. Ultimately, this would ruin humanity's natural progression and irreversibly contaminate the entire scenario."

She turned to exit her ship. "Because Megatron would most likely not deign to help his subordinate, it is therefore up to me to do so, if I wish to prevent such an occurrence."

She paused, tilted her head, and started muttering to herself. "Though I suppose it would be interesting to see what a human could presently do with some sort of amalgamation of the two different technologies… Perhaps in a more controlled setting…"

Blindside was paradoxically comforted by his partner's return to an amoral prioritization of her own goals, and opened the ground-bridge for her.

* * *

Farsight emerged from the ground-bridge in the midst of the abandoned city, visor already scanning for MECH's trail. She already had a vague direction from the satellite imagery, so it would have been simple for her to follow them anyway – but the tire tracks, pressed deeper into the ground than usual by the weight of a Cybertronian body, seemed a bit obvious.

With a shrug, she turned into jet-mode, silently following the imprints without leaving any of her own.

Eventually the tracks met up with those of a railroad, and they both continued onward into the depths of a grim, concrete structure beneath a hill. The tunnel was large enough that she wouldn't even have to duck if she wanted to walk it in root mode. Before she could enter, she saw headlights, and a green car came speeding out of the tunnel, headed in the direction of the abandoned city she had just left.

Her eyes narrowed as her visor detected a faint energon signal coming from it. Presumably, they had already cut into their captive. That meant haste had moved up on the priority list.

She flew down the tunnel, keeping to the dark parts. Eventually, the tunnel ended with a large blast door. Farsight could get through it, but it would make a lot of noise – noise that couldn't easily be covered, even by the loud saws and drills she could hear on the other side. So instead, she scanned for alternate routes. All that she found was a smaller, human-sized door on one side.

Farsight frowned for a moment, contemplating her options. Then she sent a silent command through her commlink.

'Blindside, I believe this is where you come in.'

A quiet click sounded from the armor on her upper back, and a large section detached itself. Before it could fall more than an inch or two, it transformed into what most Cybertronians would recognize as a bolt-bat, and its flight capabilities kicked in. It landed silently on Farsight's shoulder, dark, almost black armor blending in with the tunnel's shadows – though the bright yellow optics somewhat ruined that effect.

'What's the job this time, boss?' Blindside asked, absently stretching his wings out. It had been a while since he had gotten the opportunity.

'Data collection and sabotage. Tell me once you are in, and then _I_ will go in the loud way so you won't be interrupted,' Farsight instructed.

Blindside turned to do as asked, a tiny cable extending from his chest to open the door. He paused before actually entering. 'I guess you won't consider waiting 'til I can watch your back?' he asked, somewhat resigned.

Farsight shook her head. She knew him well enough to not confuse his concern with doubt of her skills, but she had successfully looked after herself long before she had met him.

He gave a mute sigh, and glided through the open door.

Farsight turned to blast door and contemplated the best way to remove it during the few, short minutes that ticked by before she was signaled.

'Boss, I'm in. And I mean _in_.'

The gleefully surprised voice of her partner came over her comm, along with a small data packet detailing the structure of MECH's information storing procedures.

In yet another uncanny similarity to her own species, Farsight had found that the humans increasingly documented almost everything. Upon realizing that one of their governments had some sort of alliance with the Autobots, she had half hoped that any and all information regarding their alien allies would be ensconced somewhere in their primitive data-net. Human encryptions, while at times surprisingly inventive, would be relatively simple to ease her way through (and it would be just as simple with any additional Cybertronian security measures, given the Autobots' seeming lack of a specialist in that field). However, she also supposed that if that were the case, Soundwave would have already found the Autobots' base and flushed them out.

Instead, as Blindside had discovered, whatever records they had on their alien allies were all on hard copy, written in the physical world rather than the technological one. It was surprisingly sensible. She could appreciate sensible people.

A cheery smile curled Farsight's mouth as she saw that MECH didn't hold to the same practices. She supposed that with their organization's emphasis, it only made sense that MECH would reject a seemingly more primitive option in favor of placing their faith in their technological supremacy. Their systems were all connected into one big conglomeration, presumably for the easy transfer of large amounts of data – but also allowing for Blindside, who was currently jacked in, to follow those connections outward. Barring any independent recording devices, they had everything.

'Wonderful, my dear. I suppose it shall take you some time to download the data, considering just how much they have left available for the taking. I'll keep them occupied.'

Farsight tilted her head and turned back to the blast door.

'I suppose bigger and faster would suit my purpose better this time.'

Her smile grew into a grin at the rare opportunity when it was more viable to just blow something to slag instead of sneaking around. She placed her forearms together, the quiet whirr of transformation as they combined into one large, powerful blaster music to her ears. She directed it toward her obstacle and gleefully fired.

* * *

Silas smirked, very satisfied with himself as he overlooked his operation. The sound of saws and drills against alien metal was music to his ears. MECH was obtaining unprecedented intelligence, and he had already sent a lackey to plant a trap that would allow him to monitor, and with a bit of luck, obliterate any would-be rescuers.

The alien's eyes were like cameras. Or was it that human cameras were like the alien's eyes?

Either way, it was almost disturbingly simple to convert the feed in one of them into a two-way channel. If Silas permitted such emotions within himself, he would have been unnerved by the growing list of similarities he was seeing emerge between his tech and that of the alien. It was almost conspiracy worthy.

But the important thing was that, whatever the parallels, the alien's composition was distinctly more _advanced_ – though the being himself was perhaps not more intelligent. What Silas was learning now, from just one of them… well, even if there was a conspiracy, he'd be well prepared for it very soon.

As if to spite his words, there was a sudden explosion, coming from the direction of the entrance. He turned to have one of his subordinates pull up the video feed. The only thing they got was static.

A chill went down his spine, but before he could order someone to investigate, a dark blur flew into the room, skimming over the captive Breakdown and straight toward the platform Silas was standing on. It transformed in midair, simultaneously landing and snatching up the leader of MECH into a chilled metal hand. The two guards on security detail opened fire, and were promptly whipped across the room by long cables emerging from the new alien's torso. They hit the wall with gruesome crunches.

Silas grunted in pain as he was squeezed none-to-gently, feeling a pricking sensation as the tips of its claws punctured his fatigues. The pressure, pain, and the threat of razor-points against his skin rendered him immobile. His subordinates froze in shock, completely unprepared for such a blitzkrieg.

The power tools slowed to a stop.

"Good, that's quite helpful," a jarringly cheerful voice emanated from the alien holding him captive. "That sound was actually getting on my nerves a little. Now, step away from the Decepticon and put your devices down and your backs against that wall, if you please. Defy me, and your leader here will be mangled like a hand in a gear mesh."

The mooks, faceless by design of their uniforms, looked toward each other and to Silas for a moment. In return, he directed a glare at the world in general, seething in frustrated impotence. With no instructions otherwise, they all reluctantly complied.

"You as well," she ordered, turning her head to gaze at the two extra who had been inching toward the computer banks.

They froze, and backed away slowly, climbing down the steps to join the others. Once they were all lined up, she pinned them all to the wall with another cable, which was lit up with enough voltage to knock them all out.

With them out of the way, she peered at the screens, but seemed to find nothing of interest and turned her attention toward the human in her grasp.

"You are Silas, then?" she asked, bringing her hand up so that he was closer to her face. "I've never seen a human this close before, but I suppose you are an outlier as far as appearances go."

Her head tilted to the side, and images streamed across the visor she wore. It was a disturbingly human idiosyncrasy.

"You look like several different fictional characters designed to entertain the children of your species."

Dead silence. Unfortunately for Silas, he could barely breathe with her grip, much less retort sharply like was his immediate reflex.

The alien seemed not to care about his reaction much. She took one casual step, and it was enough to carry her to the captive Breakdown's side. He stared up at her and the human in her grip, fierce despite – or perhaps because of – his ordeal; the missing eye made it more effective than it might have been otherwise. Her head tilted once more as she examined him, more readings flashing across the visor.

"Breakdown, hmm? Interesting. You've been Reformatted before, haven't you?"

Breakdown strained against the metal straps pinning him to the ground. "How do you know about that?!"

"Experience, dear," she told him. "Though I must say, whoever performed the procedure has done fine work. Cosmetically, it is nearly impossible to tell what took place – and as far as health and efficiency goes, I cannot currently detect any problems in your system, despite the fact that it is now supporting the greater bulk of a heavy-duty frame."

She smiled. "Fine work indeed. Was it that medic on the _Nemesis_ – Knock Out, I believe? Tell him I said so when you return."

Breakdown stared at her in utter bewilderment. "…'When' I return?" he asked, wariness evident, choosing to ignore for now the implication that this stranger had been aboard the Decepticon warship.

"Well I didn't come here just to leave you," she said, as though it was obvious.

"Then why am I not free already?" Breakdown growled, his face scrunched in suspicion as he tugged at his restraints once more.

"That would be because you might attack me," she replied blithely. "And I have yet to finish with this place. If you will wait a moment longer, then both of us will be leaving."

Breakdown squinted at her, as though searching for a reason why he'd want to attack her in the first place. After a moment, it seemed to click.

"A Neutral?" he asked incredulously. "Why are _you_ here?"

"Here in this dismal bunker aiding you, here on this tiny planet when I should be avoiding the war, or 'here' in regards to a metaphysical standpoint?" she shot back.

Breakdown looked like he wanted to punch her with his hammer – or to be exact, like he was resignedly used to people being deliberately difficult, and she was someone he could actually hit for it.

Any further interaction, however, was interrupted by a distinct beep emanating from the computers. She turned, only to see a live feed on the screen. Staring back at her were four Autobots, including the looming figure of Optimus Prime. They looked somewhat confused at what met their eyes.

* * *

Farsight hummed and turned to look at the human in her grasp. "Silas, be a dear and tell me why there are Autobots on the screen."

She loosened her grip, and he gave a wet-sounding cough. "…given that they aren't his faction, I wouldn't know."

She tutted in admonishment. "That isn't what I asked you. Knowing the Autobots, they're on one of their little errands of mercy – and the fact that you were attempting to dissect one of our race likely only spurred them onward, given the potentially nasty consequences it could have for _either_ side."

Farsight brought him up a little higher. "I asked why they were on the screen. Why would you have a channel of communication open to you? And from where?"

"…Breakdown's optic. I wanted to see who would come after him."

Farsight hummed again, not quite believing him entirely, but turning back to the Autobots.

"If you are here to rescue Breakdown, I'm afraid you're too late," she told them.

"Has Breakdown been offlined?" Optimus asked gravely.

"Oh no, he's quite functional – if missing an eye and greatly discomfited," she replied cheerily. "I just arrived here first is all."

"And as a Neutral, why on Cybertron would you wish to aid a Decepticon?" Ratchet asked tersely.

"Species solidarity, and all," Farsight said with a casual smile. "Plus, I figured Megatron wouldn't bother, given that the capture was carried out by what he might deem a 'lesser race' – and I assumed that you, understandably, wouldn't care. So why not me?"

Bumblebee and Arcee exchanged a look, and the two-wheeler arched an eyebrow at her. "You didn't seem to care much about helping Airachnid when she crashed," she pointed out.

Farsight beamed. "Yes, well. The spider isn't exactly the type to be captured and dissected by aliens, now is she?"

'No boss, just you,' Blindside said wryly over the comm. His tone switched to seriousness. 'I'm about done here, so I was looking into the recent orders he gave out to see if I missed anything – it looks like he sent out a booby-trap with Breakdown's optic. It's rigged to blow.'

Farsight blinked down at Silas and gave him a light shake. "That's a little rude, Silas. You didn't tell me about the explosives."

She turned to the screen. "You might want to get your soldiers out of there Prime, there's a bomb."

The Autobots glanced down and presumably noticed said bomb, because they retreated fairly quickly.

Unfortunately, something else happened fairly quickly, and that was Silas – in a more maneuverable after being shaken – finally reaching the alarm button on his belt. Alarms squawked irritably, complete with flashing lights.

Farsight frowned and dropped him. He landed with an unhealthy sounding crack from one of his legs.

'Are you finished?' she asked Blindside.

In answer, the bolt-bat flew into the room from a side hallway and folded himself into her back armor once more. Partner secured, Farsight quickly ripped the restraints off of Breakdown.

"They didn't have the time to do any serious damage. You should be battle ready if you play defensively," she told him. "Hence me not wanting you up before I could leave," she added thoughtfully, before transforming and taking off down the tunnel in jet mode.

By the time she exited the bunker, there were at least three helicopters in the sky, and twice as many cars on the ground – all painted that grating shade of MECH green. They quickly opened fire on her, which she dodged with a few aerial acrobatics; even if they had hit, their small, metal bullets weren't strong enough to do much, if any, damage. A few spins and loops, and she was behind the helicopters. She fired three precision blasts to blow their fuel tanks, and darted away from the ensuing fireballs.

When she scanned the ground once more, she saw Breakdown fighting, which was a given. The surprising thing was Bulkhead, fighting right next to him – and the two weren't aiming at each other.

Farsight didn't have to contribute much after that. She did take some potshots at the cars when they looked to be overwhelmingly outnumbering the two combatants, just to ensure that MECH wouldn't capture or recapture one of them. They did well enough on their own (though Bulkhead was perhaps unnecessarily avoidant of causing human death, despite these particular specimens nearly dissecting his rival while he was still conscious).

Eventually, someone ordered a retreat. Silas perhaps. All the green vehicles turned tail and ran off, leaving the two bulky Cybertronians on the ground to stare at each other with an awkward wariness.

Farsight dipped low for a moment, catching their attention.

"Do try not to get captured by humans in the future," she tutted. "I doubt anyone would care for the results."

Then she flew off at top speeds, unable to resist buzzing the incoming Starscream as she flew by him.

She and Blindside shared a chuckle at his very audible shriek of indignation.

'We gonna go after the humans, boss?' Blindside asked her a moment later.

'No, my dear. We got what I came for – and if I change my mind, then MECH will be easy enough to find, considering I injected Silas with a nano-tracker when I picked him up.'


End file.
